


Forgive and Forget

by Artemis1000



Series: Of Dreams and Dreamers [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hetalia Crossover, Transformers Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred's friendship with Optimus Prime was damaged when the humans, and he along with them, turned their backs on the Autobots. Now it's time to forgive and forget, but sometimes it's hardest to forgive yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive and Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Content Advice: Human names used  
> Prompt: [Speedwriting August 4th 2012, prompt #1 and #6](http://tf-speedwriting.livejournal.com/440033.html) _#1 Task: the last non-TF canon you encountered and Transformers is now a crossover. You can interpret this any way you please: does a Cybertronian stumble across the Lord of the Rings movie? Or are they ported into that world? Whatever! Have fun! and #6 song:[Creed - ONE](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0bNq4goMx4)_   
>  Timeline: Post “Megatron’s Master Plan” for Transformers G1, about 1984-1985
> 
> Notes: Artemis writes Hetalia. No one is surprised. I didn't cheat, though! I'd read some strips just earlier that day.

No one had ever accused Alfred F. Jones of being excessively humble and yet the personification of the United States of America found himself unable to meet Optimus Prime’s gentle blue optics.

He kept staring at his scuffed sneakers, waiting for… Well, he wasn’t quite sure what he was waiting for, that was part of the problem.

“You are quiet today, Alfred,” Optimus noted mildly.

Alfred barely managed to stifle a wince. He stifled it pretty heroically, though; credit where credit is due. “Yeah, I guess.”

The metallic joints of shifting gears and joints and venting hydraulics tickled Alfred’s curiosity, yet he kept staring at his shoes and the desert sand beneath them as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen.

“I would have thought you would be happy to see me,” Optimus said and prodded his shoulder with a digit with infinite gentleness, never mind that Alfred was the strongest of the nations and could have handled rougher treatment besides being only temporarily killable. Optimus and his fellow Autobots had never used that as an excuse to be any less gentle with Alfred than with an ordinary, permanently squishable human. When Alfred raised his head, he did so to the sight of Optimus’ giant robot hand, palm up, offered to him for a lift. “It might cheer you up to view the world from a different angle.”

He clung to Optimus’ thumb as the robot lifted him high into the air and climbed onto his shoulder with the ease of a man sitting down on his favorite armchair. Yet for all that, he couldn’t enjoy the gentle thrum of working, living machinery vibrating through the metal body and seeping into his own until it felt like they were in sync.

It just made his eyes sting today and that was ridiculous, it wasn’t like he was crybaby Italy.

Optimus vented a giant sigh. It was funny, Alfred with his lifelong fascination with robots failed to be surprised that venting noises could sound hurt. “You used to confide in me. I believed we had regained the trust of humanity. Have I not regained yours yet?”

“That’s not… Screw this!” He tore off Texas then, nearly twisting the left temple of the glasses in his haste, and rubbed roughly at his eyes. “That stupid desert sand is getting to me,” he grumbled quietly.

Optimus continued to cycle air with the patience of a creature that measured time by millions of years.

That made him infinitely old, even by the standards of nations, who measured time in decades or centuries. Alfred, being one of the younger nations, was among the former.

He would use to tease Optimus by telling him he was actually older, for his land mass was as much his body as the handsome blue-eyed, blond 20-something human form of his. They would playfully argue about it for hours, getting other bots and humans involved, only to abandon the topic when something more interesting came along and rehash it on another occasion.

Besides failing to be known for his humility, Alfred furthermore failed to be known for his self-control. The words that had been weighing on his ready-to-burst heart ever since that horrible day simply refused to stay put any longer.

“You shouldn’t have…! It wasn’t fair!” he burst out, never mind coherence. Optimus would understand, he always did.

Optimus remained silent for a long while, or what was a long while to impatient Alfred anyway, then he sighed again. His optics dimmed slightly in deep thought. “Many times in our lives unfair things will happen to us, but we must not let them shake our faith in our friends and comrades. I will not stop trusting. If I did that, the Decepticons would have won without firing a single shot.”

“But the people stopped trusting you! You saved our asses from the Cons time and again and then they turned their backs on you because of a single fake vid!” Alfred’s fingers dug deeply into the grooves between armor plates, holding on to the metal with all his strength as if sheer strength could undo the injustice. He wished it could but the world was no superhero comic, no matter how desperately he may wish it were. He hung his head in shame and his loud voice went very quiet. “My people turned their backs on you… and so did I…”

Again, Optimus remained quiet for far too long and Alfred found it hard to breathe, that weight on his heart seemed to be squeezing his lungs as well now.

“Yet for all you are a creature all of our science fails to understand you are still human in your heart and you were swayed by your people’s opinion. I can’t deny that I’m disappointed, but I refuse to let Megatron’s scheme cost me a friend I hold dear.”

“Oh,” Alfred breathed and his death grip relaxed ever so slightly. It wasn’t the teary forgiveness depicted in his Hollywood movies, yet it was far more than he had dared to hope for when he had come to the canyon where he and Optimus would meet every second week. “I guess Arthur’s right. I’m an idiot.”

Optimus chuckled gently. “You are too harsh on yourself.”

Alfred responded with loud laughter, he stretched himself to knock on the side of Optimus’ helmet. “Says the mech who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders!”

They laughed and then they fell silent again.

It wasn’t unusual for them to be quiet together. Alfred could be quiet, though few of his fellow nations would think him capable of it. It just took the right incentive. He liked to listen to the hum of Optimus’ machine body, it was as calming as listening to the sounds of the prairie at night.

Alfred looked down again to fiddle with the zipper of his jacket. “Seriously, that wasn’t cool. It was… unheroic.”

“It was unwise,” Optimus agreed, which was very damning indeed, knowing Optimus.

“I’m sorry!” Alfred found himself cringing for the second time in a single day. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else says, I won’t believe some stupid video tape over my friends’ word ever again! I promise! And a hero keeps his promises!”

Optimus’ machines hummed in quiet contentment and far below, crickets chirped.

That was, until Alfred’s hopeful voice disturbed the silence, asking, “So, you gonna help me build a giant robot superhero to fight crime or what?”

The end


End file.
